


VI -  I never lose a bet

by KissingWinchesters



Series: YouKnowTheyAreBrothers Blog [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Dean Winchester, Drinking Games, Gun Kink, M/M, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-26
Updated: 2018-01-26
Packaged: 2019-03-09 19:49:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13488534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KissingWinchesters/pseuds/KissingWinchesters
Summary: It was a bet, a stupid thing he’d said in the heat of the moment.





	VI -  I never lose a bet

**Author's Note:**

> Read the original work including art [HERE](http://youknowtheyarebrothers.tumblr.com/post/90897648190/sam-bites-down-on-his-lip-spreading-his-legs-a)

Sam bites down on his lip, spreading his legs a little wider to ease the growing pressure.

It was a bet, a stupid thing he’d said in the heat of the moment, but Dean… being Dean, just had to go and make good on it, didn’t he?

Dean Winchester never loses a fucking bet, Sammy. 

Dean had smirked at his own words, drinking down the last of the whiskey and letting the bottle slip from his fingers onto the edge of the bed. They were both drunk, cards and drinking games and good humour turning into something more as the hours slipped by. An electric current sparking between them that neither brother could deny, but had each ignored for years like only the Winchester boys knew how. 

Only tonight, ignorance it seemed, was on vacation.

There was no mistaking the predatory shadow of want in Dean’s eyes every time Sam caught him watching him. It was crazy and dangerous and whether it was the alcohol or the intense rush of blood to his cock caused by that hungry look, Sam wasn’t sure, but somehow, the worlds axis had shifted.

They were doing this. For real. 

Finally.

“I bet you can’t make me come from just you and your gun,” Sam had blurted out, his mouth acting faster than his brain for once, the masquerade of innocence falling away to be lost forever.

“Oh, you bet I can’t, huh?” Dean had replied, shark like beast, removing his clothes until all that remained were his tight, black briefs and miles of pale flesh to feast upon.

In the dim motel light, Dean pulls out his 9mm glock from under the pillow and raises it in a salute, licking his lips and laying back against the mattress.

Sam is completely sober now, or at least enough to be aware that he’s achingly hard and that he’s been rubbing himself through his jeans, watching his brother run the barrel of his gun over his lips, teasingly slow. Dean sucks on it like he was made to do just that.

“Not gonna get off with it trapped in there, Sam,” Dean says, tongue flicking out against the tip of the shining metal. “Unless this ain’t doing it for ya?”

Dean’s hips thrust into the air like they already know the answer.

This is getting Sam off better than his darkest fantasies have ever done. Dean is writhing on the bed like a wild animal in heat and by the time Sam gets his hand on his cock, it’s already leaking precome and twitching between his fingers as he starts to jerk off.

“That’s it,” Dean says, “show me what this is doing to you.”

Sam groans, fighting the urge to squeeze his eyes shut because he can’t miss a moment of Dean like this. 

“You’ve not won the bet until I come,” Sam reminds Dean, gasping in a mouthful of air as he pumps his cock faster and faster. “Don’t even think about touching yourself unless it’s with the gun. No hands.”

Dean shudders, the hand that had been edging closer to the raised swell of his cock stilling on his hip, denied. He sucks on the gun a little more, dirty, wet sounds mixing with the slap of skin on skin coming from Sam only a few feet away.

Dragging the barrel down the line of his neck, stubble rasping over the shaft, Dean rubs his nipples with it, circling them in turn and pushing into his skin enough to twist the stiff peaks tightly. The once coldness of the metal is now warm to the touch and Dean can only imagine that it’s Sam’s fingers tracing over his torso instead of the gun, but the fact that this is turning Sam on so much is worth the torture of not having his brothers hands on him.

“Lower, Dean,” Sam grits out, so close now that he can feel the pressure burning low in his balls. “Put it between your legs for me.”

“Fuck, Sam,” Dean moans, but does as he’s told. The edge of the gun slides down over Dean’s stomach and over the waistband of his underwear. Dean pauses, looking over at Sam for the first time since they started this. “Want this to be you next time. All you, little brother.”

“Yeah, Dean. Me too. God, I wanna fuck you so bad.”

Dean rocks his hips into the gun and pushes his hand lower until it tucks right under his balls. He closes his legs tightly and ruts mindlessly onto the hard object pressed against the most intimate part of him.

Sam curses loudly and comes with Dean’s name on his lips, shooting over his stomach and chest, his muscles convulsing so violently that he swears he’s sprained something. 

“Oh, fuck… Dean… that was…ah” Sam grunts as the aftershock of his orgasm continues to surge through his body. “That was so goddamn hot. I can’t believe you just did that.”

Dean removes the gun from his legs and lets his arm collapse on the bed. He’s still hard, obscenely so, and he needs to come so desperately that he’s finding it hard to breathe.

“What can I say? I never lose a bet, now get over here Sammy"


End file.
